Mr and Mrs Hogwarts Talent Competition Story
by HermioneBelleAthena
Summary: My entry for the talent competition. DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU ARE PART OF THE FRED WEASLEY FACEBOOK PAGE MR. AND MRS. HOGWARTS TALENT COMPETITION. THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR "LIFE KEEPS MOVING ON".


Life Keeps Moving On

A Fanfiction by Cassandra Karn

I sighed heavily, looking around at the customers of the Hog's Head and blowing away my brown hair. How did a witch at the top of her class get here? A bartender paid only two sickles a week, barely enough for food. I couldn't believe that this was the career I ended up with. At least I had Richard McGonagall, my husband whom I had just married. His job, which paid for all other necessities, didn't pay much either. It didn't matter. We were pretty happy. I even had a garden for vegetables so we didn't have to purchase all our food. During my free time, I tended it and pulled weeds, my least favorite job as a small child. I wondered why it was necessary, but now, I realized somberly, it was one of the only things I could do to help with my situation.

I was yanked out of my thoughts as a drunkard grabbed my arm, asking for another round. I gently took his hand off my arm and told him calmly, "It's probably best if you go home now. You know how the Ministry is about Apparating at certain hours." Quite a few wizards who spent time here disliked that about the Ministry. They were normally nosy if you Apparated or Disapparated between nine p.m. and four a.m., unless you worked a shift at that time.

My side comment had the wanted effect: the man scowled and replied, "Damn Min'stry. Needs to keep its nose out of ev'ryone else's business. Why the hell does it care if we Apparate at the crack of dawn? None o' their concern, it is. I swear to the Lord Almighty, if they do not get off ev'ryone else's case, there ought t' be an uprising. That bloody Min'ster thinks he knows what is best, but it's bullock." I nodded from time to time and added an "Of course" or two.

After his long rant, I stretched and advised "Best be going." He nodded, laid down the money for his last drink or two, and left. I collected, then noticed that, instead of ten knuts, he left three sickles. My eyes widened. I was about to yell after him, when I saw the man stumble out the door. I couldn't leave without being fired, especially during a time with all these customers. I kept two of the sickles and made change for the last one, giving me two sickles and nineteen knuts. How would they know? They would never. The rest of the hour seemed to fly by. I barely remember serving a professor who seemed to recognize me at first, then pushed away the idea, along with the woman with four men following her around. Nine o'clock came, and I grinned as I stepped outside to the warm night and Apparated home.

I Apparated in front of my house, just a bit off. I stepped forward to hear a squelch that could only mean mud. I looked down at my shoe sinking in muck and groaned. I turned my eyes back up and saw a young girl stomping in the squishy ground. She was in front of a pitiful looking garden and the sky was a purple colour, as the sun was setting. Her mouth was in a pout and her eyebrows were furrowed. The child bent down, clutched a fistful of weeds, and yanked them out of the ground, placing them in a pile with others. A tear slipped down her dirty cheek as she looked down at all the weeds she had left, which, at the time, seemed like another hour's worth of hard work. A woman dressed in a simple white dress with a faded red pattern stepped out on the gray wooden porch and gazed down at the young girl.

"Now Minerva," she sighed. "It's not that bad. See?" The mother uprooted a huge clump of weeds and the girl's face lightened, seeing her new workload. The image faded and I was back. I looked down at my poor shoes, now covered in the oozing mud. "Urgh!" I yelled in frustration. "Why? Why when it was muddy?" Nature seemed to be laughing at me. I trudged inside where Richard was sitting in an armchair in the corner by an oil lamp and was reading. He looked up briefly at my condition and sighed. "Inaccurate Apparating once more?"

A stern look crossed my face, one that I would wear many times in the future. "Now Richard, you have Apparated plenty of times in the wrong spot," I scolded, but then a grin crossed my face. I could never stay cross at him for long. He threw the Daily Prophet down and walked toward me. I wrapped my arms around him. We leaned in close and I could feel his familiar warmth, smell his particular scent of wood shavings (oak and hazel, to be exact), and hear the murmurs of devotion.

"Once I said to you that death was preferable to being stuck in a room with you, remember?" I said, reminiscing of our Hogwarts years. He chuckled. "Ah, yes, that was when you were a strict prefect who wouldn't even stick a toe across the line, while I was a good student, a fellow prefect, and somehow 'insufferable'. It was the Quidditch, wasn't it? I was good at Quidditch and admired."  
I laughed. "Yes," I admitted. "I could fly a broom as well as a troll, and you, you were amazing at it, and a bit of a braggart."

He laughed, but his face grew solemn. "Things have been going rough at work," he began, "and they will be reducing my pay for the month." Richard seemed ten years older than he really was.

"Don't worry, I can make up for that." I replied with a smile. Richard looked at me as though I were insane. "I can explain." I recounted the tale of the drunken man and how he left too much money. I pulled out the shining coins for effect. Richard laughed and spun me around. "That's wonderful!"

I was reporting to the Hog's Head like usual when I saw Albus Dumbledore, an old professor of mine. "Afternoon, Professor!" I called.

He chuckled and sat down. "Ah, yes, Minerva, I heard that I could find you here." I nodded. "I work here."  
"About that. Professor Dippet just retired, and I have become the new headmaster." I started to congratulate him, but he motioned for me to wait. "It has come to my attention the the Transfiguration professor, Professor Humbletoon, is also retiring. I recalled that you had the highest marks in Transfiguration we had seen in decades, so I am offering the job to you first."

My eyes grew wide. "Of course, Professor. I would gladly accept this offer." I only found it strange that I would go from working for Aberforth to working for his brother.

This time, my husband was overjoyed. We wouldn't have to worry about reductions in his pay anymore, because mine was enough to cover both of us.  
However, our joy wouldn't last us long. Lord Vol… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was attacking wizards and muggles alike. Tom, whom I had gone to school with (only for a year— he was a first year in my seventh), had become a monster. He had seemed so eager to succeed in the wizarding world, but now, because of him, war was upon us. Both Richard and I had joined the Order of the Phoenix. We fought valiantly against the Death Eaters and their Dark Lord. But sadly, we would not come out of this unscathed.  
I was teaching some second years Transfiguration. Dumbledore insisted that these young wizards and witches get their education, "for they are our future". They were safe there, You-Know-Who even knew that he was no match for Dumbledore.

"No, no, Mr. Riller, the snuffbox should not have fur," I critiqued. "Ms. Pandon, stop focusing on Mr. Everhart's jokes and start focusing on your assignment," I remarked. "Mr. Hayward, that is perfect! 10 points to Slytherin!" I exclaimed. Finally, someone who knew what they were doing.

I was walking through Hogsmeade towards home (we moved here when I got the position), when I realized that there was a Dark Mark over a house, the sign that Death Eaters had been there. I ran, and as I got closer, I knew, with a sickening feeling, that they had been at my home. Readying myself, I snuck in. There, on the floor, motionless, was Richard. He had been killed by, as I later found out, Gibbon. I clutched to his body and sobbed. We had been together so long, and now, after all this time, he was gone. I only let go when Filius and Albus found me and convinced me to.

Life was never the same. I shut off most emotions. How could one hurt so much but keep living? For years, my eyes were empty and I never seemed in this world. I kept his last name because it seemed like the perfect way to remember him. Eventually, I was able to start connecting with the world. I kept teaching at Hogwarts until I died. I never found anyone else, and many people think I am stern or no fun, but I have told no one, besides Albus and Filius, of my painful past. I wonder what would have happened if he had lived, but, it is best not to dwell on the past, especially the past that is painful.


End file.
